


Paradise Circle

by CreepingDawn



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Orgasm, Anal Sex, Bondage, Dark, Dry Orgasm, Foot Fetish, Incest, M/M, Mind Games, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Oral Sex, Prostate Milking, Rimming, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 17:04:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21001154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreepingDawn/pseuds/CreepingDawn
Summary: A reluctant father delivers his son to the neighbor, a man who rules the neighborhood through a powerful and addicting drug that forces his unwilling victims to do what he wants. Today, the boy's body belongs to the neighbor, and his is going to make the boy cum over and over while the boy's dad and brother listen in...





	Paradise Circle

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by the wonderful Graphmuse, whose stories are go-to reads for me.

I sighed as I stepped outside in the light rain, the cool air and overcast sky a reflection of my somber mood. I had been trying to delay this day for weeks but I knew that, as of today, I could delay no longer. Resigned, and somewhat excited, I stepped away from my front porch.

“So why are we going over to Mr. Johnson’s house?” asked Dallas, my eleven-year-old son curious as he walked between me and his fourteen-year-old brother Austin. I spared him a glance, wincing to myself as the lie left my lips.

“He’s going to show us a project he’s been working on.”

“It’s cool, D,” Austin said with forced enthusiasm. “You’ll… you’ll like it.” He knew what was going on. He felt as I did; ashamed and eager.

Helpless to do anything and unwilling to try.

Oh, we could run. We could call the police. I could take my uncle’s old shotgun from the over the mantle and end this whole thing with the pull of a trigger.

I won’t. 

Paradise awaits.

…….

Our cul-de-sac, Paradise Circle, was supposed to be a new beginning for our family after my wife left us and we moved out here from the city. Brand new, the housing development promised us the American Dream. White picket fence. Two acres and a mule. True paradise.

It was a lie.

I was a lie for me. It was a lie for my sons. It was a lie for the Smiths and the Millers and the Thompsons and the Kings and the Sullivans and the Coopers. It was a lie for every family that bought a goddamn house on this cursed little circle from the housing developer, Mr. Reginald Johnson, and condemned themselves to this… this… existence that we now all seem to live.

And yet, it was the most wonderful thing that could have happened to any of us.

I glanced to my right and saw Sean Sullivan standing on his porch, his fourteen-year-old son Luke standing next to him. I looked left and I could see Tom King and his twelve-year-old twins Adam and Eric staring at us through their front window. Tyler Miller, age fourteen, and Andy Miller, age thirteen, pretended to play basketball in their driveway as they watched us out of the corner of their eye and glanced nervously toward their seven-year-old brother Michael, who was busy drawing chalk designs on the asphalt, and I knew they were wondering when it would be his turn to visit Mr. Johnson. No boy not yet introduced to Mr. Johnson knew what lay beneath his home. By his order, none knew what to expect until they were led there the first time.

Because of all the eyes focused on me and my two sons as we walked across the circle, I knew that everyone else knew what was going to happen today. Mr. Johnson must have informed the circle that I was bringing Dallas over for the first time.

The lonely walk toward paradise.

……….

When Johnson had begun selling the homes on the circle, he had carefully only allowed all-male families to move in. Most were single fathers who had several sons. The Millers and the Smiths were gay couples who had adopted several boys each. I should have thought it suspicious when I realized there were no women in our neighborhood. Before I could suspect anything, though, Johnson sprung his trap. I later learned it was that way with every other family here.

The trappings of paradise, I suppose.

………..

Dallas protested a little as we entered Mr. Johnson’s home without knocking. Austin and I made token reassurances that Mr. Johnson was expecting us.

Dallas seemed confused when we walked into the kitchen, opened the walk-in pantry, and pulled a small lever which revealed a hidden back and a steep decline into the darkness below. Again, Austin and I explained that all was well.

Dallas made noises of interest as we walked down the bunker-like hallway, passing several doors on our right and our left before coming to the final door. Austin and I ignored him.

Dallas expressed confusion and some trepidation when I took the blindfold from the wall and put it around his eyes. Austin and I told him it was so the surprise wasn’t ruined.

Dallas shuffled along obediently, his older brother steering him safely, as I opened the door and led my two boys into Mr. Johnson’s large dungeon. Dallas said nothing, blind as he was.

Dallas followed my direction to the middle of the room where I helped him get up on the table and handed him the glass of water within easy reach. He resisted when I told him to drink it but he eventually followed my orders, taking several gulps of the liquid.

Then Dallas passed out as I laid him back gently, glancing at Austin before the two of us left the room.

Paradise will come to each of us soon, both despite and because of what we’d just done.

……….

Austin and I sat on a leather couch two rooms down and on the left from where we had left Dallas. The room was bare, containing only the couch, a coffee table, a small closed box, and a small shelf where we had dutifully placed all of our clothing upon entering. We didn’t look at each other, knowing what was to come. Minutes passed. Perhaps an hour.

“Hello boys” said a voice over the intercom system, interrupting our own private thoughts with the arrogant tone I had come to loathe from Reginald Johnson. “So good of you to join me. And you brought little Dallas! I’m so happy!” The voice oozed, sickly sweet and full of mock humor. “I’m glad I didn’t have to cut you boys off from paradise, since you had been so naughty and refused to bring over little Dallas for me to get to know. But the pictures you sent me helped tide me over, oh yes they did.” I cringed, knowing I had sent him dozens of pictures of my preteen son as Dallas lounged around the house in his underwear in the hopes that he might be satisfied. I knew, deep down, that Johnson would not be assuaged so easily. Every family on paradise circle had tried to delay the inevitable. None had succeeded because the threat of being cut off from paradise was unthinkable. “Open the box and take the green pill. You know the drill”

“Then we’ll see paradise?” Austin asked, his voice trembling. I glared at him, halfheartedly. I wanted to know the answer myself despite the fact that my mind should have been focused on my preteen son just down the hall.

“Oh yes, my little friend. You’ll see paradise later tonight. You know I keep my word.” The man chuckled and both of us swallowed the small green pills found in the box.

He did keep his word. Everyone on the circle visited his dungeon at least once every two months, the younger boys much much more frequently as Johnson apparently had a penchant for teens and pre-teens. In return, everyone on the circle got to see paradise once a week, taking the small silver pill that was Johnson’s own invention and flying higher than any drug ever created or, indeed, ever imagined by man. I’d last seen paradise eight days ago and I was desperate to do so again. Desperate enough, I thought shamefully, to bring Dallas here when Johnson finally demanded it of me. Just like little Michael Miller’s dads would bring him when Johnson decided it was time. Because of paradise. Because the drug that took us to paradise mattered more than anything else in existence.

“I washed little Dallas quite thoroughly while he slept.” The man continued over the speakers. “Gave him an enema, too. Now he’s in a mask for the first time and I think he’s just starting to wake.” Austin and I shuddered. A mask. Johnson had dozens, maybe hundreds, of them. They were form fitting latex helmets that hugged the entire head uncomfortably close, leaving a small opening to breath through which Johnson usually attached to a hose and compression pump. The pump, I knew, would filter in other drugs of Johnson’s creation which would make the time in the dungeon much more stimulating. Having been in the dungeon many times myself, a plaything for Johnson, I knew that his drugs could bring one to the peaks of ecstasy; second only to the little silver pill which led to paradise.

I felt a shiver run through my body as my cock began to expand. I noticed Austin shiver as well, his teenage member growing in time with mine. The green pill was a aphrodisiac that Johnson had every “witness” take before he played with one of the circle’s residents. I’d taken the green pill hundreds of times before. Johnson’s pattern was straightforward. Every night, and sometimes several times on the weekend, he would let the residents of the circle know who had been chosen to wear a mask in his dungeon. Then, he would inform the circle who was “invited” to “witness” the event. Sometimes it was family members of the mask wearer. Sometimes it was neighbors. There never seemed to be rhyme or reason, save that some of the family was always present the first time a child was his plaything. Today was Dallas’s first time and Johnson had “invited” Austin and me. Like every witness, we knew we would sit in this barren room, listen to his running commentary of his fun with the mask wearer, and eventually get ourselves off several times as the green pill made us enjoy what we were witnessing. Over the years, I’d heard him play with every other member of the circle (except for the little boys who hadn’t gotten old enough to interest Johnson) and had spent countless loads sitting on that damn couch.

“He’s awake, boys. I’ve got him strapped down nice and tight. The only thing he’s able to move is his head, but he can’t see or hear anything because of the nice tight mask. There there, kiddo. It’s ok. You’re going to have so much fun with me today. I’m flipping the switch to give him a bit of my magic fairy dust. I know he’s going to love it.”

I closed my eyes, imagining Dallas in the tight black mask squirming on the table in confusion and fear while the sickly sweet particles of Johnson’s chemical mixture began to fill his lungs and arouse his body. My cock swelled at the image.

“My my my my my. Look at the little willy, here. Bald as a babe, Dallas. Bald as a babe. No, it doesn’t look like you shaved it at all. The skin is perfectly smooth. Not even peach fuzz. My my my my my. I knew you were young but, come on Dallas, surely you should have some pubic hair? This is shameful for an eleven-year-old. Very shameful. Speaking of shameful, folks, little Dallas is getting hard. My fairy dust must be working!”

He said that every time one of his playthings got aroused. It was one of his go-to lines.

“Well! Color me impressed. No hair but a respectable little tool, Dallas. You should be proud, my boy. In fact, it looks like your hard little nail is three and a half inches. Pretty good for eleven. Eric King is a year older than you and he’s half an inch shorter. You’re going to have to brag about this, my boy. Brag about your mighty tool!”

The mask kept out all of the sound so most of Johnson’s comments were aimed at us witnesses. A sudden buzzing filled the room and Austin groaned, his teenage member untouched but drooling a little bit of shinny pre-cum. I groaned internally, knowing what the buzzing represented. 

“I’ve turned on Mr. Vibe, Dallas. He’s a very friendly vibrator, attached to a helpful and maneuverable arm which lets me set Mr. Vibe wherever I so choose. And, since your little willy is standing at attention, I think Mr. Vibe should make your acquaintance. Don’t you? After all, you and Mr. Vibe are going to become great friends over the next few years.” The buzzing changed frequency slightly and I knew it was now touching the tip of my pre-teen son’s cock. “Oh yes. Now look at that, folks. Dallas must really like Mr. Vibe because he is thrashing around almost as vigorously as the vibrator! I wonder, could this be the first time Dallas has had good feelings coming from his pee-pee? Dallas, you do know your little weenie is built for good feelings, don’t you? Haven’t you learned to touch it in the middle of the night for funnzies? Hasn’t your brother snuck in for a little hanky-panky?” Another vibration began to echo in the room and I knew that Johnson had turned on a second vibrator. “Mrs. Vibe is coming if to assist, Dallas. Don’t worry, lad, she’s going to take good care of your balls. There! Snug against your little boy sack. Between Mr. and Mrs. Vibe, you do look like you are having a good time!”

Those two vibrators could be intense, I knew, and I knew my boy was probably moaning uncontrollably in the mask at the feelings. Seconds past, with Johnson humming a merry little tune. “Dallas’s little nipples are quite cute and they respond really quickly to my fingertips. I think they both became sharp as diamonds in record time. And his little belly button. Yes. That’s it boy. Enjoy my finger swirling in your little innie. Oh. My. God. His little toes are so cute. They’re wiggling like little demons, of course, but I think that’s just because the lad is having such fun with Mr. and Mrs. Vibe. You know, the Vibes are always eager to meet knew people. When Tanner Cooper met them for the first time a few months ago, that little eleven-year-old stud had such an amazing…”

He stopped his commentary suddenly, chuckling dementedly.

“Folks! Somethings happening! Yep! YEP YEP YEP! Little Dallas is cumming! He’s cumming so hard! Thrash, boy. Have that big boy cum! His cock is pulsing faster than Mr. Vibes! Oh what a boygasm! Cum for me lad! Cum for me lad! Have a listen, folks!” With that, Johnson must have switched over to the audio from inside the mask.

“OH! AH! GOD! HELP! DADDY! AHHH!! AHH!!! NOO!!!!! UGHH!!!!!” My boy’s high pitched voice echoed loudly in the room as his throaty moaning assaulted our ears. Austin let out a loud groan and began to jerk himself off, his teenage hand sliding up and down his six inches in time with his brothers heaving breaths and pleas for help. I resisted the urge to jerk off myself, settling for rubbing my balls as I listened to my boy have what had to be his first orgasm. The buzzing ended abruptly, then, and the audio cut back to Johnson.

“Yes! YESSS!!!! That was excellent! Dallas is coming down from that powerful dry cum and, folks, I got to tell you it looked great from up here. Just great. Of course, now I need to figure out a way of amusing myself.”

I sighed, moving my hand up to my seven inches and beginning to lightly coat my fingers in the pre-cum which was now rapidly spilling down my shaft. Austin had slowed down, his eyes closed as he savored the feelings pulsing through his teenage cock. I’d heard my oldest boy scream like a girl when subjected to the Vibes and I could only imagine how much he was enjoying listening to his brother go through the same experience.

Almost five minutes past without anything coming from the speaker before the audio cut back to my youngest, his breath still ragged. “He said,” my boy whimpered, “He said to say what he was doing. I don’t… I don’t understand!” 

I did. I understood perfectly. Sometimes, Johnson would force his plaything to narrate for a while and, if they weren’t expressive enough or sufficiently descriptive, he’d pinch them to gain their cooperation. My guess was that the man had just spent the last few minutes explaining to Dallas some of the things the boy would need to say. How to say it. What terms to use. Then forcing the boy to repeat it back until he knew the script to Johnson’s liking. This part always got me going and I pictured Dallas’s face in my mind, his cheeks flushed like they were after a hard fought baseball game, while I began to stroke myself leisurely.

“He’s… he’s licking my armpit. His tongue! It feels so weird. Oh! He’s licking the other one. Ah! HAHAHAHAHA!!! HE”S TICKLING ME!! NO!! STOPP!! AHH!!! Oh! Oh! He stopped. Why? Why is he doing that to me? I feel so weird. My head feels all cloudy but warm. I don’t know what… Ouch!”

Johnson pinched him. My boy was going off script. He’d learn.

“Ohhh! That feels gooooodd. He’s sucking on my titty. Oh yeah. Thats nice. Ah! Oh, wow. His fingers are playing with my… my… my boyclit!”

A new word, something Johnson would have told him to use.

“And my balls! Oh, that feels nice! Yeah! Oh Mr. Johnson… Ouch! Ah, I mean Master. That feels nice Master! Yeah! Keep touching my boyclit! My boycock! Oh! Ugh! Yeah!”

My boy began to giggle, then, and I picked up the pace of my masturbation.

“He’s sucking on my toes! And his tongue is… Ah! Ah! Stop! Don’t lick my feet! It’s gross! It! It tickles! Ah! PLEASE! AH!”

Dallas had cute feet, I knew. They were boyish, slim, and I had figured Johnson would pay close attention to them at some point. He liked feet, having worshiped mine plenty of times before. As the room filled with sounds of slurping and Dallas talking about the tongue bathing his feet were getting, I took a minute to really look at Austin.

My fourteen year old was well into puberty, with a nice thick bush and a man sized cock. Fine dark hair had begun to sprout under his arms and around his navel and I figured that he was going to be a ladykiller when he was older. I knew my boy was straight, having seen his search history on his computer. However, I also knew my oldest became a total slut when he was wearing the mask with Johnson and I often wondered, in the back of my hand, how being molested by the man for the last three years might effect his sexual health. After all, the teen was sitting right next to me spanking his monkey and groaning like a whore as he listened to our neighbor dominate his little brother’s feet. It was the drug, I thought to myself. It had to be the drugs.

And, besides, what was the alternative? To live without paradise?

“Huh. Hey, wait. What are you… Ah! That hurt! Ouch! He’s… he’s opening up my legs. They’re being stretched wide. Now he’s strapping them down again. Oh! He’s licking my ankles. And my thighs.. What are you… OH! AH! SHIT! STOP! UGHH! THAT FEELS!!! OH!!! FUCK!!!! THAT SO GROOOSSSS!!! AHHHHH! FUCK!!!! MY BUTT!!! MY BUTTHOLE! OUCH! MY… MY… MY PUSSY! MY BOYPUSSY! MY STARFISH! HE’S LICKING IT! OH GOD!! UGHHH!!! YEAH!!!!! AH!! UGH!!!!! YEAH!!! KEEP GOING!!! THAT FEELS SOOOO GOOD!! HIS TONGUE IS IN MY BOYPUSSY!!!! FUCK!!!!!”

“Oh FUCK!” squealed Austin as blast after blast of hot teen cum erupted from his quivering cock, his hand frisking the flesh in a blur. “Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!” I almost lost it myself but stopped my hand, my body not quite reaching climax as young spunk splattered on my oldest’s chest and stomach. Austin’s grunts almost drowned out his younger brother’s moans of delight and I sat their listening to the two of them.

“MY BUTT!! MY BOYPUSSY!!! YEAH! YEAH! LICK IT!! SUCK IT!!! PUT YOUR TONGUE IN IT!! YEAH! UGH! FEELS SO GOOD! YEAH!!! AHH!!!! MORE! EAT MY STARFISH!! YEAH!! UGH!!!!”

The audio cut out and a familiar sarcastic voice filled the room. “Nice and loose. Hot little pussy. I think he’s getting ready to cum again. You ready to get sent to the moon, Dallas? I think two fingers and a blowjob should do it!” The audio cut back.

“HIS MOUTH IS ON MY PENIS! MY BOYCLIT! HE’S LICKING IT! OH! OH SHIT! AH! AHHH! HIS FINGERS!!! IN MY BUTTT!!! MY PUSSY!!!! BOYCLIT!!!! AHHH! NO!!! ITS HAPPENING! ITS HAPPENING AGAIN!! STOP!! I GOTTA PEE!! NO!!! AHHH! YEAH!!! AHHH!!! UGHH!!! YEAH!!!!”

Dallas shrieked, then, and his voice rose an octave as my boy had a powerful boygasm with a mouth around his cock and two fingers up his ass.

“AHH! AHH!! AHH!! YEAHH!!! AHH!! UGHH!! UGH!! AHH!!!

Austin’s hand shot out and grabbed my slick and throbbing member, rapidly jerking me off as I exploded in my own orgasm while listening to my youngest cum his brains out. Rope after thick rope of cum hit my neck and chest, covering me in my seed as I roared through my climax. The sound above cut off and the room became much quieter, my whimpers and Austin’s breathing the only thing to be heard.

“Oh shit!” I finally said, my breath ragged. I looked at Austin with confusion.

“Your whole body was spasming, dad,” he said sheepishly. “I think you wanted to cum but couldn’t get your muscles to work.”

“So you decided to help me out?” I asked, somewhat perturbed but much more grateful that I cared to admit.

“Well…” he said, shrugging.

We both let out snorts of amusement.

“Well, now,” came the voice of Johnson over the intercom. “That was a whole lot of fun. Dallas here is still twitching, folks, as I think that dry-cum literally blew his mind. Hell, he might not even want to find paradise if he can get one of those every day. Oh, who am I kidding. He’s going to chase paradise just like everyone else. I’m just glad to know he’s such a little sex pistol. I’m going to enjoy making him wear the mask on a regular basis!”

I sighed. Becoming one of Johnson’s “favorites” was an experience I was hoping my sons could avoid. Daniel Smith, who was sixteen, and Ryan Cooper, who was twelve, were currently known as “favorites” and their parents had told me privately that being called at least once a week to wear the mask was having a profound impact on both kid’s schooling, energy levels, and moods. Between the weekly trip to paradise and the weekly trip to the dungeon, Daniel and Ryan were worn out and acting out. Daniel, his father had told me, had begun slipping into his thirteen-year-old brothers room at night and demanding that the younger boy finger him hard. Ryan, his father had sheepishly told me, had asked for a vibrating butt plug for his birthday. Yes, I was hoping that neither of my sons would get any special attention from Johnson. From the joy in Johnson’s voice as he talked about the taste of my youngest’s asshole, I was beginning to suspect my hope would be dashed.

“For those of you keeping score, little Dallas has gotten his little marbles off twice since joining me in the dungeon. My two witnesses, if my video of the room is to be believed, have each donated a load in commiseration with the youngest family member. Thus, it is time for the main event!”

Austin and I groaned and our cocks began to harden.

“Aaaannndddd…. Done. My special little pills have been pushed deep into Dallas’s boypussy and they should begin to have an effect in about two minutes. I the meantime….” There was a sound of a lotion bottle being pumped. “My other little concoction is being rubbed on and inside his little cunny. There there boy. Don’t wiggle so much. I know the lube feels all tingly but that’s the drugs working. Yes, yes. I know. It feels like fireworks are going off deep in your shitter. That, too, shall pass. I’m just getting you ready little guy. Don’t want to damage you here, do we? Got to make sure you can sit tomorrow! Here. Going to adjust the gas a little so you are a little extra loopy. Oh yeah. Look at your little clit. It’s getting bigger! You like my three fingers working in and out of your boypussy? You like this? You are such a little slut, Dallas. I knew it when I first laid eyes on you. I bet you are going to beg your daddy and brother to fuck you all the time after this. Ok, my little lover. I think you are about ready.”

Austin and I had our hands on our cocks and were working them with some vigor as we listened to Johnson’s speech. We knew exactly how Dallas was feeling, having felt it many times ourselves. One pill was making his colon and rectum much more elastic while the other was swelling his prostate and increasing its sensitivity. The cream being worked inside and around his sphincter was making the anal walls more elastic and sensitive as well. Overall, Johnson was turning Dallas’s backdoor into a hot eager pussy.

And it had to be eager if it was going to accept Johnson’s nine inch cock.

“My tip is at the boy’s hole, folks. Oh yes, it is. That little pink starfish is quivering in anticipation against my slick mushroom. So is Dallas, for that matter. Give me a moment.” The audio cut off and half a minute passed. The audio cut back on. “Well, Dallas is really fighting his bonds. I just told him what I was going to do. That I was going to shove my giant mancock, all nine inches, deep into his asshole and I was going to fuck him to the most brutal dry-cums he could possibly imagine. That I was going to absolutely punish his boybutton and he was going to experience the most mind numbing anal boygasms. That he was going to boygasm until he passed out and then, once I was satisfied, I would shoot my load inside him and claim him as one of my flock. I… don’t think his mind is all that excited. His body is, though, and that’s really all that matters.”

Austin and I groaned. Everything Johnson had said was true. We’d both experienced it. We’d both heard others experience it. It was overwhelming unmerciful cruel pleasure that dominated the body and broke the mind. Johnson’s drugs allowed him to force his playthings to cum over and over until the orgasms bled together into one long full body climax that eventually short-circuited the brain and caused the plaything to pass out. Johnson’s stamina and endurance was the stuff of legend and no one had ever felt him erupt inside of them - every one of his playthings was out cold when he came. Oh, his thick cum was always leaking out of swollen tingly holes once one woke up but the eruption, according to everyone on the circle, had never once been felt.

Oh fuck was I horny. My son, my little Dallas, the all-american boy who played X-box and couldn’t see PG-13 movies and was the best second baseman in the league, was going to cum so FUCKING hard. He was going to squeal and cry and beg before his mind drifted away and his body spasmed in continuous orgasmic bliss. Austin and I looked at each other and nodded.

About two years ago, Tom King, patriarch of the King family and my favorite neighbor, and Tyler Miller, who was about twelve at the time, were in the room listening to fifteen-year-old Jasper Thompson getting royally fucked when they decided that they wanted to play with their own assholes. That was a common occurrence in the room, witnesses routinely fingering themselves as they listen to the debauchery over the intercom, but neither Tom, a full grown adult, nor Tyler, a pre-teen, felt like they could really get deep enough for the effort to be satisfying. The way Tom tells it, Tyler begged Tom to fuck him but Tom didn’t want to neglect his own asshole and the two were at an impasse. Then, they came up with a bright idea that witnesses have been using since. 

Shifting on the couch, the two lay on their backs in opposite directions with their legs slightly apart. Using their right hands, each was able to finger the other’s asshole both deeply and at the perfect angle while still jerking themselves off. This maneuver caught on and spread quickly. 

Scooping up some of our cum to use as lube, Austin and I took position and I slipped two fingers deep in his hot hole while he slid three in my own eager mancunt. Then we began to finger each other while our free hands began fiddling with our taut poles. We were ready.

“Damn! I should change my name to Debbie because Debbie is doing Dallas!” Johnson said with a smug tone of complete dominance. “One inch! Two! Three! Oh, man, this boy is tight! Four inches. Fiiiivvveeee. Ok, going to have to work this one. Out we go. In we go. Out we go. In we go. Out we go. Innnnn… Yes! Six inches! Oh, his hole is fighting me but it’s loosing the battle. Its ok buddy! I know if feels strange but there is no pain, huh? My magic drugs took care of that, didn’t they! Oh look! Yep, the little slut is getting into it. His boyclit is growing. Out. In. Out. In. And… seven inches and the boy is hard as a nail! I think Dallas is enjoying himself.” The audio cut over.

“Oh! Ah! Wait! That feels weird! Stop! It won’t fit! Hey! Ugh! Ugh! Ah! It’s all tingly! It tingles! Oh! Wait!”

“Hey now! I got an idea!” Johnson’s voice took over. “Lets make this one count! All the way out! Seven inches in! All the way out! Seven inches in! All the way out…”

Austin and I held our breath as the pause grew longer and longer.

“Balls. Deep.” A loud slapping sound echoed in the room and both of us groaned. The man had bottomed out in my pre-teen no-longer-virgin son. “Whoa whoa whoa! The boy liked all nine inches apparently! He’s cumming! Cum for me baby! Feel that cock in you! Cum hard!”

“AH!! AHH!! TINGLES!!! TINGLESS!!!! UGHH!! UUGGHHH!!! AHHHH!!! OAHH!!!!!”

“His little nail is twitching up a storm, folks. Little boy is a natural. Quiver baby. Quiver like you mean it. Feel those good feelings. Cum around my big cock. Ugh! Your hole is so fucking tight. I feel every ripple. Yeah, you are going to be one of my favorites, I can tell!”

I almost came at that, my own hole clamping around Austin’s fingers as I tried desperately to hold back my orgasm. I barely succeeded and, by the time my mind could focus on what I was hearing, the loud rhythmic slap slap slap of flesh pounding flesh filled the room. It lasted for several minutes, the sound being echoed by my oldest and I frantically jerking ourselves off.

“I. Am. Fucking. Your. Boy.” Johnson suddenly grunted, each word accompanied by a resounding fleshy slap. “And! I! Know! He! Loves! It!”

The sound came back, strong and hard and fast. Austin and I kept stroking, our bodies slick with sweat and cum as we listened to the man sodomize the youngest member of our family.

“Here it comes!” Johnson suddenly said before the audio switched over.

“AH! AH! AH! OH! TINGLES! TINGLES! SOMETHING! SOMETHING! HAPPENING! HAPPENING AGAIN!! NOOO!!!! WAIT!!!! TOO MUCHH!!! AHHH! UGH UGH UGH UGH!!!!!!!!!”

I came, hard. Austin did as well, his own seed mixing with mine in mid air and falling onto us as we heaved together in climax. His hole squeezed my fingers tightly and a stray thought wondered if they would be crushed. He probably felt the same way, my own hole spasming around his still thrusting digits. 

“YES! CUM FOR ME KIDDO! MASSAGE MY COCK! THRASH AROUND LIKE YOU MEAN IT! CUM HARD! LOVE THOSE KIDDIE-CUMS! HOT DRY KIDDIE CUMS!” Johnson roared, arrogance dripping from every syllable. 

We kept jerking off, not even stopping as our arousal refused to abate. Johnson eventually began a litany of dirty talk, calling Dallas a boywhore and a slut and talking about how he should pimp out my boy so men around the city could fuck his hot tight hole. He talked about the taste of my boy’s pussy, the flavor of his cock, and the smell of my boy’s sweat as his body tried to deal with the deluge of climaxes he had experienced so far. He talked about organizing a circle-wide BBQ in his back yard where he’d cover Dallas in sweet sticky sauce and let every man and boy fuck the pre-teen while everyone else sucked the sauce off my boy’s hot little body.

“You’re going to want to hear this,” Johnson said suddenly. I knew he kept an earpiece in so he could hear his playthings and he sometimes interrupted himself when they said, squealed, or screamed something he wanted to share. “Your boy is really getting into it. Definitely learned those words I taught him.”

My son’s soprano voice, husky with lust and filled with need, poured into the room. “FUCK ME MASTER! FUCK ME! TINGLES! BOYGASMS! TOUCH MY BOYCLIT! PLEASE TOUCH MY BOYCLIT! IT TINGLES SO BAD! PLEASE! HARDER! OH! UGH! THE TINGLES! THE BOYGASM IS COMMING BACK! AH! AH! AHHH!!!!!!”” My youngest squealed again in obvious climax, my cock getting even harder as the eleven-year-old begged to be forced to cum. To touch his ignored little cocklett. The sound cut back to the rhythmic fucking and Austin and I groaned together as our minds filled in the visions of what was happening just down the hall.

More time passed and Johnson occasionally broke the slap slap slap to make some comment about Dallas. Then he went on a short rant about how, one of these days, he was going to have Austin join him in double-teaming Dallas and that really got Austin’s hole spasming. Then it was back to the sounds of the fucking.

Some time later, Johnson’s voice cut in and it was low, much lower than before. A chill ran through me as I knew what that meant. The beginning of the fucking was always an opportunity for Johnson to talk dirty and have some fun. But he eventually switched over to business and I knew my boy was now in for it. “At this angle,” he said, calmly despite the fact that it sounded like he was fucking my boy at an absolutely ruthless pace, “my cock is running roughshod over his boybutton. I am absolutely pulverizing his prostate. That, and the fact that my cock is so big, means his entire boypussy is being dominated by my manhood. If you could see his little clit, you’d see it twitching uncontrollably. From the way his hole is spasming, I can tell you his boygasms are only seconds apart.” The audio switched over.

“AHHHHHHHH UUUGGGGHHHHHHHH AAAHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOO TOOOOOOOO GOOOOOOODDDDDD AHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOO” The boy’s whining, filed with sharp hitches of breath where I knew his body was shuddering through another climax, had both Austin and I hard as rocks as we kept stroking ourselves. The seconds passed before the audio again switched over.

“That was a boygasm.” Johnson said. “And that one,” he said a few seconds later. “And that one.” He said again. The hard sound of the vicious fucking still filled the background.

“And it’s complete. Full body continuous anal boygasm.” The man said it without strain as he banged my youngest son, the sound echoing in our room and reminding me of a machine gun. Bam bam bam bam bam bam bam it went, the fucking at an unbelievable pace. The audio switched over again.

“UGH AH UGH AH OH OH AH AH UH UGGHHH UHGGHH EEHHHHH AHHHH” Dallas grunted, moaned, and croaked as he experienced cum after cum after cum. Again, Austin and I unloaded at the sound as we both had been there multiple times and recognized that Dallas was nearly out of his mind. He couldn’t form words. He was probably drooling on himself. The orgasms had turned into an unending climax; one long continuous peak that felt like wave after waive of unending and unbearable pleasure.

Johnson had stopped talking, the only sounds now being the slowly decreasing volume and frequency of my son’s grunts and groans and the still unbelievably fast flesh on flesh fucking sounds. Eventually, Dallas stopped making sounds altogether and I knew that meant he was hovering on the edge of passing out; his mind shattered.

“FUCK!” Johnson said sometime later, startling both Austin and I from our own rest. We had stopped jerking off after the last climax, the green pill nearly worn off and our bodies simply too tired to continue. “The little slut just passed out. Limp as a rag. From start to finish, it took… two hour and forty seven minutes. Not bad. Not bad. I’ll eventually get him able to stay awake for five hours but that was not bad for his first try.” The slap slap slap had not diminished at all and Austin and I sighed. We were close to paradise. “With that, my friends, it’s time for me to sign off. You know the drill.” The sound cut off.

We did know the drill. We got up, crossed the hall to a small bathroom with multiple shower stalls, took long relaxing showers, dried off, waited half an hour as we talked about nothing in particular, crossed back over to put on our clothes, and then walked down to another room which contained another couch, coffee table, and small box. Sitting in the middle of the couch was Dallas, the boy freshly clean and wearing a nice silken pair of pajamas. They were the very expensive kind and everyone got a pair when they first entered the dungeon. His clothing, minus his underwear, would be returned to the house the next day freshly laundered. No one ever saw their first pair of underwear again.

“So D…” began Austin, a bit sheepishly.

Dallas ignored him, his eyes glazed over. Johnson had already made Dallas take the pill to Paradise. Lifting my youngest, I pulled down his pajama bottoms and turned him slightly so his rear was facing me. Austin understood and grabbed his cheeks, spreading them so the two of us could see the thick milky spunk running lazily out of the boy’s puffy pink hole. We pulled his pants back up, then, and sat down on the couch with him between us.

Reaching forward, we opened the box and took our the silver pills. The pills to paradise. Popping them in our mouths, we sat back and put our arms around Dallas. He’d be mad tomorrow, I knew, but he’d be much more eager to find paradise again and would quickly agree to anything that would get him there. It was the way of things on Paradise Circle.

My eyes began to glaze, then, and I sighed with satisfaction.

Paradise was mine.


End file.
